


every way i see you with me

by BecauseF3IsAPauseButton



Series: bearing with one another in love [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alpha Clarke, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Breeding, F/F, Futanari, G!P Clarke, Girl Penis, Impregnation, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Lexa, Rut Cycle, Rutting, Trans Character, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-24 16:00:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6158921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BecauseF3IsAPauseButton/pseuds/BecauseF3IsAPauseButton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke goes through a rut cycle. Lexa takes matters into her hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	every way i see you with me

**Author's Note:**

> After this devastating if predictable turn of events in show, I thought it was time to post the sequel to "always have a place in my mirror."

title: every way i see you with me  
fandom: the 100  
pairing: clarke/lexa  
universe: alpha/beta/omega dynamics

Clarke normally slept well but her last day in Arkadia left her fidgety and irritable, beset with insomnia. Visiting her mom was always great, and she was trying to recover some of her friendship with Raven and Bellamy, but she missed Polis strongly and Leksa acutely. Her first attempted breeding hadn’t been successful although Clarke wasn’t worried. It wasn’t uncommon for the first two or three heats to be unsuccessful but Lexa had been disappointed. Clarke would if pressed admit she wished Lexa was pregnant but the desire to be a sire had been sudden. She’d never imagined herself a parent but the Ark had never seemed a place to raise children to her, either. Walking around Polis and watching the Trikru families had endeared her to Lexa’s insistence on peace at all costs. The Ark had been cold, even when she was happy, but her happiness then was not the same as it was now. It was only with Lexa that she could imagine herself happy with the family life and a life as a healer. 

Trikru were allowed a happiness and freedom she had never imagined. She thought, perhaps, when the Skaikru showed some damn common sense and got rid of Pike that she would retire from Ambassador and dedicate herself to the pups and maybe start teaching. Most Trikru children she’d met went to a survivor school in case they were ever away from the family unit or villages and then an apprenticeship but they had lost literature in an effort to thrive on the land. She’d always loved reading and drawing but teaching others had never been an option when her career had been chosen for her. She stared at the ceiling, wondering if she could teach and be a minor healer, wondering about life with Lexa and pups, wondering how the Ark could be saved – if it even needed to be saved – if everything she’d done for them was for naught, and was more than thankful when the sun began to rise and a guard knocked on her door.

“Sekun skaiheda,” She said, “Taim don gon we.”

Clarke grunted, pulling on her boots already. She’d taken a shower the day before, although she preferred the boiled water baths with Lexa they’d started recently once Clarke had finally stated her preference for a long bi-weekly bath over the daily freezing wash-ups that the Trikru took. Lexa had given her a dry look and asked if she didn’t think being an ambassador warranted hot water privileges. She checked that her boots were tied and that her clothes were all in order before she opened the door. Her guards stood on either side, eyeing the Skaikru guards across from them warily and stood on either side of her as she left the room. Her mom and Kane were outside as she left and she hugged her mother, then clasped Kane’s arm.

“Where’s Raven?” She asked.

Her mother smiled, “Recovering from the surgery. It’ll be a while before she can walk around like she really wants to, but we gave her enough anesthesia that she should sleep well into the afternoon.”

Clarke frowned, then turned on her heel to go to the medical bay. Even if Raven was asleep, it wouldn’t be a big deal to say goodbye or leave her a note. 

Raven was sitting up as she walked in, and she grinned at her dopey face.

“Y’leavin’?” The dark-skinned woman slurred.

Clarke nodded, “Yeah, time to head home.” She hugged Raven gently, then her nose twitched at the scent clinging to her – wet moss and iron and daisies.

She whispered into her ear, “Your heat is starting soon. You need me to stay?”

Alphas and omegas didn’t always mate when a heat started; it was sometimes as simple as cuddling or staying in the vicinity for an omega to relax and let them ride it out. Lexa finding her had been an exception to the general rule of a heat, but she also wouldn’t begrudge Clarke any time spent with friends.

Raven’s unfocused eyes turned to her and shook her head, “L’ge’ Monty or Miller.”

Clarke swallowed but nodded and kissed her forehead. Raven rolled her eyes but smiled and closed her eyes. Before she’d made it out the room, Raven was asleep again, but Clarke made sure to tell a guard to get Monty or Miller to her room within the hour.

The travel back to Polis was no harder than usual, but Clarke found herself irritated by her clothes and the distance between her and her mate. Other alphas smelled bitter and pungent but it was only when smelling a passing omega and his child and the scent of him wafted up to make her shiver that she realized she was falling into a rut. It made sense, although very inconvenient. Heats happened every two or three months, depending on the mega’s fertility, but ruts happened only after an alpha had knotted for the first time or after a long time of no knotting, sometime in between their omegas heat cycles.

She scratched the back of her head, then her chin and scowled at the tiny bristly hairs there. She hadn’t had time to shave last night and it was showing. Lexa never cared if she shaved or not but Clarke hated to be seen as anything other than a woman. She’d been lucky to take after Abby in her body type and that she’d gotten an implant for hormones by her first erection as a twelve year old but there was always the desire to be as womanly as possible – although who determined womanhood was anyone’s guess and the source of much consternation.

By the time they’d made it to Polis, she was hot beneath her skin and snappish and her horse kept shaking its heads, as irritated with her as she was with it. 

Clarke climbed off the horse and her guards scrambled to keep up as she jogged into the building. The elevator took a long time but it was faster than walking, although she paced back and forth. Both her guards were Betas so they neither negatively or positively influenced her mood, but hurried out the way as she sprinted to her room. Just the scent of her mate would calm her rut to a manageable level and she burst through the doors to flop immediately on Lexa’s preferred furs. The scent was sweet and receptive and young; Lexa must have just left for training. 

Clarke threw her boots off with heavy thuds and shrugged out of her shirt. She kept the pants on to muffle the worst of her arousal from any passing omegas, and laid on her back, pulling the panther fur Lexa loved over her head to calm herself. There was the strong desire to find Lexa and hump her furiously but it was muffled by equally strong desire to find her lover and hug her so tightly they melted into one person.

Exhausted from a sleepless night and a long horse ride, Clarke slept until her erection was so hard she had to reach down and open up the drawstring so her clit could slap back against her bare belly with a strong ‘thwap’, then rolled onto her side.

\--  
Leksa hadn’t realized Klark would be home so soon. They’d migrated to Klark’s quarters over her own because it had less history than her commander’s quarters and it was very easy to imagine themselves having their own life when not surrounded by the braids of those who had come before her. The commander before her - Oskar’s young’uns had pleaded for his braid as a remembrance for him but she hadn’t been able to give it to them; she’d been a child herself, scared at the sudden responsibility, of going from somewhat remarkable warrior to someone that determined who lived and who died before her first heat.

She was sweaty from her training and extremely hungry. Oskar had taught her and the other Nightbloods how to cook, since a commander rarely if ever ate what others cooked outside of a feast. She told one of the guards as they came up, “Bring me a deer collar and a haunch with two bushels of taim spreeg and col don and sodum.”

They nodded and hurried along to tell another stationed guard. She entered the room and immediately grinned. Klark’s sleeping face poked out from under Lexa’s favorite fur and her length pushed up the bear skin she was under. Leksa walked to the small basin of cold water where a bar of soap also sat to wash up when she heard her lover’s throaty voice, “Don’t you dare.”

She turned, delighted, and grinned at the pouty glare of her mate. Klark’s eyes and lips were slightly swollen from exhaustion but all it did was make her look even cuter to Lexa. 

“M’sweaty,” She protested, even as she walked over to kiss her pink cheeks. 

Klark countered with a deepened sulk. Klark had a face prone to a sweet petulance, like a child’s fake upset, but Leksa couldn’t bring herself to climb into the bed while stinking of sweat. Klark smelled clean, like soap, and she could wait all of three minutes for her to wash herself down. 

Awake now, she could hear Klark take her leathers off and toss them across the room just because she had the ability. Klark had told her once about the Ark and how tiny the rooms were, and how she’d shared a room with her parents, meaning there was no mess ever allowed in most rooms. Leksa splashed water on her front and then her back, scrubbed the brick of soap on a rough cloth, and washed herself thoroughly. She hated to spend time on the hot water without Klark bathing with her, but they were both aware that if they called a bath up, they would end up making love in the tub and wasting the water everywhere.

She changed into a long shirt and at Klark’s strangled protest, explained, “The guards are gonna bring up some deer soon. One of us needs to be presentable.”

Klark grinned in excitement, “You’re gonna cook?”

Leksa nodded even as Klark squirmed in excitement. Leksa had gathered that they didn’t eat meat or most starches on the space craft, their diets consisting entirely of something they called “rations” and the occasional vegetable. Klark ate everything that came her way indiscriminately, uncaring of taste or origin except in the case of Leksa’s cooking. 

Just as she’d thought, the guard brought her the requested meat and seasonings, then handed her a loaf of bread. There was a good sized fire pit in the room and the embers were still warm from her luncheon. It only took a little extra wood and some stroking for the fire to come back to life. Klark shrugged the furs off, revealing her naked torso and Leksa couldn’t help her leer. 

Klark had an athlete’s body with a softness normally not seen among her people; most of her visible musculature was in her legs, back, her shoulders hard and broad, her breasts there but almost as hard, just generous padding for her pink nipples, underneath strong muscles but her ass supple and fleshy. Klark would have been a great contestant for the summer games when younger, a splendid wrestler or runner. When Leksa had first seen her naked, Klark’s stomach had been concave and firm to the eyes but now had just the tiniest covering of softness from beer and bread. The bear fur rode down to just cover her waspish waist and erection and she squirmed until she was calm and relaxed into the furs.

Leksa crushed the seasonings into the sodum and rubbed it onto the meat until it gleamed green and made them stand near the fire with sticks for support. She ripped off a hunk of bread and climbed into bed with Klark. Her mate’s scent was normally very sharp, edging on unpleasant for those who couldn’t withstand her forceful personality, but it was a winter’s sharpness – Klark smelled of jun berries and az and lightning, except when she was in her rut, where it smoothed itself into a jun berries jinja tea with a sharp shot of what Klark had called wizkay, a bottle her family kept only for ceremonies, but it burned the throat and left the body warm. She smelled like that now, her sky eyes soft and only partially open, gleaming storm cloud silver from the light of the fire. Her pink lips opened and Leksa fed her a piece of bread, feeling her hot mouth close on the very tips of her fingers. 

She ran her fingers across Klark’s sharp jawline, then smoothed her hair down by her ear, playing with the lobes as Klark nuzzled against her, eyes mostly closed. She pressed herself closer, one leg thrown over Klark’s askew knees and her cheek pressed against Klark’s face.

“Your rut came?” Leksa asked and Klark hummed an affirmation, the rumble shaking the both of them. Her other hand reached down to stroke against her lightly fuzzed belly then smiled against Klark’s cheek as she thrust her hips up so the leaking tip of her cock touched Leksa’s hand.

Leksa smiled. “You want me to stroke you?”

“Please,” Klark murmured, her want evident in her furrowed brows.

Leksa wrapped her hand firmly around her hardness. Klark hissed, eyes squeezed shut, then she shuddered and lay flat, hands squeezing the furs. She smiled, kissing her mate’s already flushed cheek, and rubbed her thumb against the soft flesh at the crown of her length, barely touching the divot of her head. 

“What do you call this again?” Leksa asked, rubbing her two longest fingers along the line that led to her mate’s sonce. She did not have a mind for languages; it had taken most of her life to be able to speak Gonsleng with any fluidity and she often reverted to Trigedasleng for convenience, so she was not teasing her mate any more than necessary.

“S’different words,” Klark grunted. “Penis, cock, dick, I sometimes say clit. Ovipositor, if I were a double.”

“Klick,” Leksa repeated, finding the one she liked the most, then frowned at Klark’s affectionate look.

She said her word again, slower, “Kleet. A click is what Monty does on that machine you don’t trust.”

“Kleet,” Leksa tried again, then smiled smugly at Klark’s kiss to her lips. She leaned forwards, straddling Klark’s muscular thigh with the apex of her thighs, and continued to kiss her, flexing her hand around Klark’s kleet then stroking her from base to tip. She was already sticky from holding in her orgasm and Leksa understood she wouldn’t take long at all. Klark squirmed, her hot mouth frantic, even as she attempted to swallow Leksa’s greedy tongue. 

Klark’s hips bucked, fucking Leksa’s hand intently, and Leksa rubbed herself on her thigh just as strongly, the two of them turning themselves into a humping machine. 

Clear sap spilled from Klark’s hardness like rain water, dripping down Leksa’s hand. Klark’s neck bopped and hands gripped Leksa’s tight ass firmly, forcing her to ride her thigh, spilling her slick all over Klark’s thigh. 

“Let it out,” Leksa said into her mouth, saliva leaking between the two. She licked Klark’s lips, swallowed her pants, then her muffled groan as her teetering erection finally spit out its load. Leksa found herself having to ride her mate, her entire body jerking as her sac flattened against the base of her kleet, white viscous liquid splattering so high it arched onto Klark’s neck, between her breasts, and pooling in her navel. Leksa hadn’t gotten off but she was too interested in licking up Klark’s sonce, savoring her berry-az-lightning taste beneath the normal bitterness, swallowing every drop Klark had gifted her.

Klark flopped backwards, drawing in great breaths like an overworked horse, then palming Leksa’s head to bring her up for a kiss. She was much gentler now, her long fingers scratching Leksa’s scalp, tasting the hints of herself in Leksa’s mouth hesitantly. It was the first time she had done so, although not the first time Leksa had rubbed her to orgasm or drank her sonce. 

“Give me a minute,” Her mate finally said, her eyes closed. 

Leksa got up, her slick running down her thighs, and checked on dinner. It was mostly done, just the very center partially raw. She shivered. The broken windows blew in cold air almost constantly. Her mate was snoozing again and she grabbed the fur that smelled the most like Klark, her favorite bear fur, and wrapped herself in it before going to the guard. The young beta stared ahead as she said, “Bring me two flagons of beer.”

They fairly ran down the hall, their embarrassment so apparent it was in their scent.

The beer and another loaf of bread came up bare minutes after she’d taken the collar off the flames, leaving the haunch to cook through, and she carried them both to the small table they had for eating. Her mate was laying bare on her side and she shook her awake, Klark’s bleary eyes barely focused.

“Come eat,” She said, and when she saw she was on the verge of going back to sleep, let out a plaintive purr, the ones omegas used when they were in trouble. Klark jerked awake, rubbing her eyes, searching for the threat, then glared at Leksa, who smiled innocently.

She huffed but followed Leksa to the table and tracked Leksa with barely open eyes as she plated her dinner, then passed her the beer. Beer was safer than water, and Klark enjoyed the taste so Leksa made sure the kitchens made plenty for storage during the winter.

Klark was appreciative as always as they ate, enough that she got a second wind after they’d washed their greasy hands and faces in the cold water. Leksa banked the fire, leaving the haunch in the ashes, and approached her antsy mate.

The blonde sat on the edge of the bed then put her hands on Leksa’s hips, “C’mere.”

Leksa stood between her long legs, wrapping her arms around Klark’s neck, then bumping her chin against the top of Klark’s head. Klark nuzzled her throat, her breasts, then sucked in one nipple to slurp and nibble at it until it was hard enough to pick at rock. She switched between the two, her big grin felt against Leksa’s skin, and she shivered as one of her mate’s hands moved between her slick legs.

“You’re so wet,” Klark purred, her thumb rubbing against Leksa’s protruding button as her middle fingers found her hole and pushed in. Leksa leaned forwards, allowing Klark to support her weight as the blonde crooked her fingers inside, still feasting on her chest. Klark pulled her fingers out, then grabbed her tightly by the bottom of her ass and picked her up to toss her on the bed. She was immediately between Leksa’s askew legs, sucking on her button, licking at the split of her pudendum, then putting the strong calves over her own shoulders. 

The brunette pulled her up by the hair to stare into her eyes, turned amber in the flames.

“Put it in,” Leksa commanded, although it felt rather like a whine. Klark smiled at her in that way she had that meant she was laughing, then ducked down to suck her even harder. Leksa threaded her fingers through Klark’s long hair, forcing her head to suck on her small button. She sucked the slick from Leksa’s hole then fluttered her tongue along the edge of her entrance, darting the slick muscle in and out the way hummingbirds flittered around plants. Her thumbs pulled apart Leksa’s swollen lips and she licked the insides, humming at the flavor.

 

Her heels drummed into Klark’s back, her palms pressed tightly to the back of her mate’s head. Klark pushed herself in deeper, the tip of her nose pressed to Leksa’s swollen button, the rest of her mouth busy trying to consume Leksa from the outside in. Flames licked her spine and the deepest center of her belly; her breath was steam from the heat in her chest.

“Klark,” She moaned, toes curling, pushing Klark’s head to suck at her rather than lick, and she shuddered in orgasm at Klark’s skillful tongue.

The blonde pushed herself up, her eyes glittering, and searched for the entrance of her pussy with her long erection. It nudged the bottom of her hole, then slid uselessly through her slick for a few long strokes – long enough to feel the very beginnings of a knot at the base of Klark’s kleet – and then found purchase with the blunt head of her length.

“Ready?” Klark asked. 

\--  
Lexa was soaking wet underneath her. Not the same sticky mucous of her heat but a slower burn of something that was distinctly about how she responded to Clarke and only partially fueled by Clarke’s desire for her. 

“Beja, big un, ai houmon,” Her mate pouted, gazing up at her with dewy green eyes. Clarke growled lowly and pressed in. They hissed together at the stretch and Clarke leaned forwards, eyes closed, feeling the collapse of Lexa’s pussy around her length. Lexa felt even hotter than usual, like heated oil, and she sighed in relief when the end of her clit met the end of Lexa’s cunt, the little spongy spot deep inside that signaled Clarke had met her womb. She savored the feeling, felt her clit throb inside of the brunette who waited impatiently, then took up a steady rhythm that matched her heart beat. 

Sex while rutting wasn’t the same as sex during a heat – there was no urgency to mate, no desire to mark Lexa’s womb as hers, no real need except to get inside of her mate as soon as possible. From here she could fuck Lexa until her knot hurt too much to keep and her balls spat every drop of sperm they had inside of her mate and they could both collapse in exhaustion and just as satisfyingly curl up behind her and sleep the entire night just so long as her knot was held tightly once.

She slashed in as strongly as possible, then bit her lip at how Lexa’s hole clung to her length, refused to let go of her, just as needy as Lexa’s tight hands on the back of her head and her full lips begging for kisses. Clarke growled again so strongly the bed vibrated, and Lexa’s head fell back to reveal her long neck and the bite mark that smelled of Clarke. She descended then, dropping Lexa’s legs so they wrapped around her waist instead of her shoulders, Clarke’s gums itching to mark Lexa again just because she could and pushed in again, spreading Lexa open again and again, her walls collapsing around Clarke as if it as their first time again.

Lexa ground her hips against the mound of Clarke’s pelvis, hissing at the small knot rubbing against her enflamed clit, whining as Clarke sucked at her neck until it bruised, then groaned, “You feel good.”

Clarke let out a breathless laugh, then groaned as her knot began to swell for the first time that night.

“Knot me,” Lexa demanded. “Knot me before it’s too big.”

The blonde moaned, then with a grunt pulled herself out. She grabbed Lexa and spun her around until she was flat on her stomach, half the pillows pushed off the bed in her haste, and she slammed herself in, bouncing against the swells of her ass as she hurried to get Lexa to orgasm. 

Clarke lay on top of Lexa, their bodies pressed so tightly together that the only thing between them was their sweat, and she rumbled continuously into Lexa’s ears, coaxing her instinctual self into an orgasm as best she could when her mind was too scrambled to even dare reach for Lexa’s clit or the hard spots of her nipples. “Mine,” She groaned, her feet scrambling for purchase on the furs beneath them as the top of her knot slipped in.

“Mine,” She repeated, as a solid inch popped in and Lexa wailed beneath her, “Fuck me!”

She pulled it out, using all her body weight to rock herself backwards, then crashed into her sex fully, her entire knot plunging into Lexa as she roared. Her knot swelled to its full length and her balls seized as she shot long, thick ropes of cum into Lexa’s vulnerable womb.

Lexa wailed and screamed beneath her, sex juices pressed out of her and onto their bed, her eyes rolled backwards into her head. They shivered together, the feedback loop of their shared orgasms so strong Clarke couldn’t stop shivering long enough to do more than hold Lexa tight to her front, and roll them onto their sides.

She nibbled at a shoulder in front of her, eyes screwed shut as Lexa quaked around her, shot after shot of cream crammed into her flat belly. 

She moaned, “Clarke,” and Clarke’s ass flexed as she tried to press even further into Lexa when there was nowhere else to go. Her balls twitched again, sperm shooting out and Lexa shivered in her arms. 

The first knot took the longest and they drifted off to sleep as they continuously came. Clarke woke up first, finding her clit at a full erection again, and shook Lexa’s shoulder. 

Lexa’s eyes opened, then closed to half moons as she purred sexily. She lifted one long leg, holding the knee close to her chest, and Clarke slid back in, sighing at the relief. Lexa moved her leg so it was partially on Clarke’s legs and partially behind them, giving them both plenty of space.

Clarke’s second knot took much longer to form. She pounded against Lexa’s backside until her sperm was a frothy mess that clung to her shaft and spilled from Lexa’s reddened pudenda, her sac swinging to slap against Lexa’s distended clit.

“Want you,” Lexa murmured, a hand reaching behind her to thread through Clarke’s long hair. Her face was bright red, her chest marked with hives from her sweating, and she smelled of burned almonds and fresh baked bread, under that her mint and almost-poison scent, her hair tangled around her in a burnished halo. 

She didn’t think Lexa had ever looked more beautiful.

Clarke swore, “Have me,” just as she felt the beginnings of a tingle around the base of her swollen length. She pressed what was there into Lexa, then began to fuck her with the start of her knot, stretching the entrance of her hole with her tie. She felt herself purr, content with the warning ache in her sac and Lexa’s breathless mewls, and then grunted as her knot abruptly came to full size just as she slid in again.

“Fuck,” She hissed, and Lexa made a tiny sound far back in her throat between pain and pleasure. Clarke reached down and rubbed against her clit until Lexa clenched around her and her knot gave up any pretense of fighting, squirting more cum into Lexa’s full belly. It ached to be inside her this time, but it didn’t hurt, and she kissed Lexa’s ears and neck as they rocked together, trying her best to purr gently, coax her into even further relaxation if she could. Knotting outside of heat wasn’t the best experience – the entrance to an omega’s womb was smaller than an alpha or beta’s in order to milk cum more effectively during a heat but outside of it, their small holes took a serious beating if an alpha was in rut. Clarke had only needed the once but all of Lexa’s instincts would be begging her to let Clarke have her way until neither of them could move.

They stayed knotted for a half a candle mark, then Clarke gathered her exhausted mate into the crook of her arms and buried them both beneath the last of the furs. Lexa’s head was pillowed on Clarke’s chest and the omega purred softly.

“Happy?” Clarke asked, smiling a little. 

Lexa snuggled further into her, a leg wrapped around one of Clarke’s to steal her warmth, and her eyes closed.

“Thought so,” She answered her own question, drifting off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> \--  
> Trigedasleng –  
> Sekun skaiheda: Ambassador of the sky people  
> Tain don gon we: Time to leave. Literally: time has gone away.  
> taim sreeg: thyme  
> jun berries: juniper berries.  
> sodum: salt  
> young’ons: children  
> jinja: ginger  
> wizkay: whiskey  
> sonce: derived from essence, a euphemism for sperm, but in some cases, testicles.  
> Beja: please  
> Big un: alpha  
> Ai houmon: my mate. Within the show’s Lexicon it’s “my woman”
> 
> Ark deviations from standard English—  
> Pups – babies/children  
> Double – a cis person  
> \--  
> I have taken some liberties with the colloquial languages that Trikru and Skaikru use. Trigedasleng was very easy - it's somewhere between a Caribbean Patois language and AAVE sprinkled with some interesting word choices for me despite what the language creator has to say. Skaigedasleng was harder; what would people who spent 100 years in an isolated language system say and use? I decided only on "double" for cis on the fact that their assigned gender matches their idea of gender related to the self - hence, "double." "Pups" comes from the fact that ABO was once about werewolves and it's shorter than either babies or children and therefore more efficient on the Ark.


End file.
